In Which I Don’t Buy a Rooster

Today I went to the market to buy cheese. It was a perfect day to go there. The weather was cooler, and the market was colorful and lively with people and activity. I heard a rooster crowing and I asked to see it. It was a miniature rooster, similar to the one a neighbor has, which I hear crowing all day and sometimes at night as well. I love the sound. It was hard to resist buying the rooster. I didn’t even ask how much it was, but I assume roosters are expensive, especially cute little miniature ones.

I bought some tiny pottery bowls instead, which have roosters on them. Then I bought cheese. By the time I got home, the younger aunt had washed all my clothes, including the clean ones. It’s like having a fairy godmother. The older aunt made hand cut fries, which were delicious. The old lizard loves fries.

In the evening I cut out animals out of an old school book for her. She liked the animals, but my edges were jagged, so she set out to straighten them with big scissors. She’s always been a perfectionist.

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